


Built From Mortar and Mountains

by thepizzasitter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Biting, Bottom Castiel, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Lonely Castiel, M/M, Rimming, Top Ezekiel | Gadreel, Ugly Sweaters, author will stop making stupid tags now, because nothing is more adorable than this duo in ugly sweaters, gadreel just wants to take care of cas, gadreel went to prison, past off screen minor character death, these two are precious babies that would definitely adopt bunnies together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was something so very soothing, he’d once decided, about the slow fall of snow as it heated against the warmth seeping from his window and ran gently down and along the glass. That truth continued to hold once more as he stared into the dreary light of the morning." Castiel, the wealthy C.E.O. of a flourishing company, finds warmth in unexpected places with winter at its coldest. Gadreel, a homeless man and ex-prisoner failed by the justice system, finds a home to call his own. They both manage to find what they've lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Built From Mortar and Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> It has been far too long since I posted something new. In honor of a ship that only recently started and only has a few followers--until the word is spread, that is--I wrote this Casdreel piece as a warm up for many future fics to come. I don't own Supernatural, the characters, etc. The companies were made up. Any shared names was a product of happenstance and all that. The whole thing is fiction, however homelessness and unjust incarceration are very real, very problematic, and should be treated as such. My own history of homelessness lent itself to relating to both Castiel and Gadreel's characters on a more personal level, and I sought to include bits of that in spite of this being a human au. It should also be noted that the song "Insatiable" by Daren Hayes is one of my favorite love-making scene songs. For additional fics, drabbles, cosplay, and more, please check out my Tumblr (kesstiel.tumblr.com) Enjoy darlings!

There was something so very soothing, he’d once decided, about the slow fall of snow as it heated against the warmth seeping from his window and ran gently down and along the glass. That truth continued to hold once more as he stared into the dreary light of the morning.

The snowfall had been nearly constant for nigh on a week, until it had built to the point that very few people could get anywhere without either a bulldozer or absolute, unwavering determination. Companies had finally begun to realize that remaining open was an exercise in futility, and employees from every walk of life suddenly found themselves dealing with either a new found sense of freedom and relief or an all-encompassing sense of dread as they monitored their bank accounts.

Castiel Novak was among a different group: the one that felt freedom for the first time in far too long and was suddenly at a complete loss for ways to spend it.

His own work was both satisfying and demanding, and he’d never wanted for a challenge. He’d scaled the corporate ladder with a quiet, unobtrusive efficiency that was rarely seen in the business world and seldom talked about. In a way, it was almost as if he’d always been there. G.R.A.C.E. members (Greenworks’ Ridiculously Affluent Company Executives)--so named by the worker bees of Greenworks Energy--would occasionally wonder how exactly it came to be that quiet Castiel came to be on their prestigious board, but just as soon as the topic would come up, it seemed that there would be a general consensus that regardless of the ‘how’, the results spoke for themselves.

Greenworks and her schematics had never been quite so ship-shape, and it had been under Castiel’s direction that the company had begun finding better and better methods of green energy and had found itself among the first internationally recognized and respected eco-focused companies.

Cas’s mind was adrift with thoughts of building plans, snatches of physics, chemistry, biology, and geology, finances, potential business contacts to be made, emails to write, and the impending holidays and ways to lessen the hazardous side of them in a way that would be both effective and still allow people their cheer and spirit.

He looked out across the sprawl of New York and the slowly darkening sky despite it being early in the day. Such was the nature of winter, he mused, but it was a comforting thought rather than a daunting one. He loved the sunlight, for practical and personal reasons, to the extent that his friend Dean jokingly complained that _he_ was the one getting all of the freckles meant for Cas from all the time the two of them and Dean’s brother, Sam, spent in each other’s company outdoors.

Dean was one of the head designers in Greenworks’s construction and landscaping division, and his brother was a lawyer and P.R. wizard, in charge of the finer points of foreign law, policy, and figuring out how to make the public bend when their common sense fled in the wake of consumerism and the ease of ignorance. The Winchester brothers had taken Castiel under their wings when he’d begun working as a finance secretary. They’d given him their unwavering friendship and devotion, and had supported his ride to the top of the company with bolstering and unabashedly loud enthusiasm.

“You’ve got this, man,” Dean had told him. “You make it look easy as breathing. There’s no way they can ignore what you bring to the table. It’s practically in your blood!” Sam had agreed, grinning, deeming him a warrior of clean energy and an angel of practicality, which had elicited an embarrassed smile from Cas and a loud whoop of encouragement from Dean.

The phone was ringing before he’d even realized he’d reached for the phone.

“Mmf--hello? Who is...oh _hell no_ , fucker, do you even know what time it is?” Dean’s low voice answered, a night on the town and only a few hours of sleep evident in his tone.

“Hello to you too, Dean. It’s just past eleven-thirty. I was unaware this was a socially unacceptable time to call,” he replied, grinning.

“Ha. Ha. Took you long enough to scrape together a sense of humor. I’m just bummed you use it on me, your best friend in the whole--no, wait, make that your only friend in the whole world,” Dean snarked, pausing to yawn loudly.

“That’s not true.”

“No? You hiding a stash of besties I don’t know about, Cas? Sheesh, no need to make a boy jealous.”

“Sam is also my friend.”

“Sam is everyone’s friend and he’s also dumb as rocks and a _lawyer_ , so he doesn’t count.”

“I doubt he’d take kindly to hearing that opinion. In fact, I believe he’d be insulted and say something about your neanderthal tendencies and your inability to go a night without a new companion.” Castiel poured himself a cup of coffee as Dean made an offended sound, smiling when he pictured the expression Sam would make and Dean’s subsequent reaction. He burned his tongue trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, well, he can go fuck himself if he’s so jealous of not getting any. And anyways, since when can you say anything about sex without sounding horrifically awkward. And I mean _horrifically._ Like, ninety year old virgin that uses ‘fondue’ as a euphemism for sex awkward.”

“Thank you for showing me those films, by the way, they were very enjoyable. I now understand why Charlie calls me ‘Capsicle’ on occasion.”

“You’re deflecting, dude. Though that does remind me: I have to make you watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ and pronto. Meg is after me about it.”

“We can watch it when…” Cas looked outside mournfully, seeing the snow in a slightly more put out light.

“When spring comes, all this goddamned snow melts, and you can actually make it to our place? Yeah, see you in half a year,” Dean groaned. “I swear it gets worse every year. It can almost drive a man to want the climate to fuck itself over to one temperature just so we never have to deal with this shit again.” He may or may not have silently agreed. “Anyways, did you need something? I was out late last night, so I’m not exactly good conversation right now. I think the wittiest thing I’ve said so far had something to do with you and sex, so clearly I need coffee.” His friend’s laughter only served to remind Castiel that he had no idea why he’d called beyond feeling a sudden, nearly desperate need to know that there were other people in the world with him. That he had friends and a connection to them in spite of his current isolation.

Castiel was silent for a moment, wondering how pathetic he was about to sound.

“I’m lonely.”

Alright, that was a quite a bit more pathetic than he’d initially thought.

There was a long pause before Dean blew out a raspberry and snickered, the stifled bursts of sound escalating into fully formed laughter. “Dude, Cas, did you seriously just say that?”

“I’m aware that it sounds--”

“Oh my god you _did_ just say that.” The humor seemed to have fled.

“I can call Sam, I’m sure he--”

“Whoa, whoa now, no need to go running off to Dr. Phil there, Cas! Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities.” There was another long pause. Castiel took a deep breath, trying to shake off the sense of irrational loss he’d been feeling for the past few days. At first he’d thought it was just the lack of work and focus, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the feeling of being slightly off-balance had dogged his steps for a long time, and it was only when there were no pressing matters to attend to and no other work to be done that ‘off-balance’ became full blown ‘de-railed’.

“I--I really am, Dean. I didn’t realize it, but...I just--I don’t know what to do with myself and...and…”

“It scares you a little.” Sam’s voice was strong and sure on the other end, and Cas felt better just hearing it. “Sorry, I think Dean panicked because I walked in to ask him where he’d hidden the can opener and all of a sudden he shoved the phone into my hand and said you were having a crisis. Are you okay?”

Cas laughed, feeling unhinged. “I’m alright, just…” He wanted Sam to say it for him, unsure as he felt.

“You feel like you’ve put everything into work and us, and when those things are taken away, even temporarily, it makes you nervous. Directionless, maybe? Either way, don’t stress yourself, Cas. You’re one of the most motivated and hard-working people I know, and it makes sense that you’re kind of hard-wired to need a bit of purpose at all times.” Castiel felt air rush into his lungs, not realizing that he’d been feeling like he couldn’t breathe until he suddenly could again. Sam had always been so good at this.

“You’re in the wrong profession, my friend,” he said, sipping his forgotten coffee, now barely lukewarm.

“So I’ve been told.” The smile was clear in Sam’s voice. “If you’re feeling a little lost, that’s fine and normal, Cas, I promise. Maybe try something new, yeah? There’s gotta be something--or some _one_ , if you’re so inclined--to do within walking distance, right? Get out of your apartment and go appreciate the fact that it’s fucking gorgeous out right now with all the snow and practically the whole city on pause because nature is doing what you always say she does: taking what she needs and helping us mere mortals discover ourselves in the process.”

It was uncanny, but comforting to have his own logic thrown back at him. “I will, Sam. There’s a wonderful bookshop close by that I’ve only been in once. I’ve been meaning to go back, but I’ve been too busy with work. I think I’ll go today.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, Cas. Go have some adventures before the world closes back in. If you need anything, just call us, okay?”

“Of course. Sam...thank you. I don’t know what I’d--I’m very grateful for your and Dean’s friendship.” His cheeks burned with embarrassment at the stilted sentiment, but Sam was gracious enough not to further his misery.

“More like the other way around, man. We’d be so screwed without you on our side. We’re here for you, much as we may suck at showing it, and I’m speaking mostly about Dean here of course--” A muffled shout and a brief scuffle sounded on the other end, making Castiel laugh before Dean’s voice came back on.

“Yeah, yeah, so chick flick moments aren’t my thing. But seriously, Sam’s right. You’re family and that means we’ve got your back, alright? No more of this ‘lonely’ bullshit, you’re too cool for that. Either get yourself wasted, get laid, or get that book, since I’m not entirely sure you don’t get your rocks off to that shit anyways.”

“Thank you, Dean, I’ll keep that in mind,” Cas replied sardonically, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his coffee. “I’ll talk to you both later, have a pleasant afternoon sleeping in.”

“Hell yeah. Catch you later, Cas.” Sam shouted the same in the background.

“Goodbye.”

The click of the receiver was almost enough to break the contentment of the moment.

\---

It was really rather amazing how what in reality only took a handful of minutes on a normal day could stretch to a seeming eternity in the cold, wet, and snowy conditions of the day.

As he shuffled his way through the streets, it occurred to him that he'd rarely stopped to admire the contrast between the orderly chaos of the city and the chaotic order of nature. The city, with her skyscrapers, patterned streets, restaurants, and hectic noise of machine and human, would seem ill-suited to the vast expanse of unbridled nature that covered her roads in icy abandon. The casual way the earth could fling her inhabitants to and fro with ease, tempered by the fierce determination of humans and their lofty goals would speak of war and combat to most people. 

To Castiel, however, it was the most beautiful love song. The city, for all her stoicism, was helplessly drawn to the wild allure of nature. Nature, though cruel at times, was a passionate lover and so she treated the human-made world and her beloved cities and mountains to arresting sights such as these.

The snow may have been beautiful, but it wasn't long before Castiel had to admit that no one individual could bear nature's love for long, and that he ought to leave the city and her darling to their poetry and find a place to warm up.

He snorted, thinking of what Dean would say to his 'fancies', as the elder Winchester often sarcastically called them.

_"They're a bunch of hunks of mortar and glass, and some snowflakes, Shakespeare, calm down before you start writing a sonnet or something."_

It was a testament to his distraction that he nearly tripped over the long handle of a shovel and stepped right onto a bag filled to bursting in his haste to correct his misstep. A sound of surprise was muffled by his scarf as he tipped and fell into the soft snow face first. _Cold!_ His mind shrieked, while he scrabbled uselessly for a moment before he righted himself to a sitting position, thoroughly flustered and red from both the cold and the embarrassment.

"What?" He croaked inelegantly, spitting out some errant snow and the strands of his scarf. The world was spinning just a little, and Castiel lifted a gloved, unsteady hand to his face, probing gingerly at the throbbing skin of his cheek, where it felt like the snow might not have cushioned him after all.

"--am so very sorry, I put it down for a moment to gather the rest of my things--"

_What?_

"--did not intend to injure you--"

Hands were pushing his aside gently, fingers not his own replacing them and searching for signs of further injury with practiced ease. He winced when they made contact with a spot that was almost certainly going to bruise. His eyes focused enough to see a face before his, and something odd flipped in his stomach as he vaguely recognized who was carefully inspecting him with such concern in his eyes. He knew him, but in a peripheral way, and if he weren't so disoriented, he knew he could place the other man.

"No damage beyond what a few days can heal," the man said, breathing out softly in relief. His voice was warm and deep in a different way than Castiel's. Despite the scarf wrapped around his face, covering his mouth, Castiel felt a bit encompassed by the comforting tone, and he shook his head to clear it until the world remained steady once more.

"Are you alright?" The stranger asked--probably not for the first time, Cas guessed.

"I am fine, the snow took most of the fall for me," he replied, standing a bit shakily even with the man's hand on his arm, though everything felt far more solid than a moment ago. "Did I break your shovel?"

A quick glance from both of them confirmed the shovel's indifference to the goings on, still in one piece where it had been left.

"It seems not. I am terribly sorry for leaving it in the middle of the sidewalk. I did not think that anyone would be walking this way any time soon, but clearly I should stop assuming such things."

Castiel looked at the bag he had stepped on, stuffed full of clothes, small snacks, and other odds and ends that rested out of sight, and suddenly connected the vague sense of familiarity that had eluded him before.

This was the homeless man that he'd passed nearly every day for months for one reason or another. Between work and leisure, their paths had crossed more times than he could count, though never with enough time to have a legitimate conversation. On occasion, Castiel would practically be sprinting to the underground or the bus stop--he'd never been able to find a loophole in his own beliefs about the environment long enough to justify purchasing a car in spite of his long route to work--and would slow only long enough to drop a dollar or two in the approximate direction of the small container perched on the sidewalk at the man's feet. Every so often, however, he'd find himself with extra time on his commute to or from work and would save half of his sandwich or salad to bring to the well frequented corner that the man preferred.

He was always met with an appreciative smile and a murmured thank you that left Castiel feeling far more satisfied than the feeling of doing a kind gesture was usually wont to bring forth. He'd never questioned it before, with their interactions being short and businesslike, but the quiet contentedness he felt was back in full force, despite the fact that he was freezing and a little disgruntled by the ache in his cheek.

He was startled when his name was spoken. His head snapped to the side so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"You know my name." Not a question, clearly.

The man smiled softly. "You have brought me food before," he explained. "The receipt is sometimes stuck to the wrapper, and customer names are often printed at the bottom."

Something stuck in Castiel's throat at that. It was...odd, he supposed, that he felt saddened by the fact that a person he saw daily would have to learn his name through receipts. He shook his head again to disabuse himself of the strange feeling.

"Do you make a point to learn people's names?"

"Whenever I can, yes. When I cannot, I tend to think of people via physical features or personality attributes." Now the man was smiling, the crinkles around his eyes giving him away while his mouth was protected by the scarf. "For a time earlier in the summer, you were 'the one with excellent taste in salads.'"

Cas laughed, startled but pleased. "I'm glad you think my salad choices are acceptable. How does my taste in sandwiches compare?"

The man let out a quick laugh of his own, and Castiel delighted in the sound before he could help himself. "Beyond compare, I assure you. No other picks such fine sandwiches in this city, I'm certain of it."

They grinned like loons at each other for a moment, before Cas found his hand caught in a handshake. "I am Gadreel. I'm honored to meet you--in a more conventional way, at least, than our previous interactions."

"Castiel Novak," Cas said simply because it's expected, though Gadreel knew his name already. "I'm sorry I didn't know your name sooner."

Those long fingers still held his loosely, and his cheeks heated before the other seemed to remember himself and drew away. "No apologies are warranted, Castiel. It is not often I am asked my name at all." The way he said it was devoid of bitterness or malice of any sort. It was simple, factual, without inflection, but Castiel felt a sudden jolt of...complex feelings at the admission. There was some anger for both himself and the rest of the city, a bit of sadness and guilt, indignation on this man's behalf, and a slew of other emotions, but the strongest was something like curiosity. He was unexpectedly infused with the desire to know Gadreel better, to hear his story and commit it to memory.

"I was on my way to a bookstore I've been meaning to revisit, but...the talk of sandwiches has apparently already taken its toll. If you are amenable, would you accompany me to lunch?" He winced at his formal wording, wishing he had Dean's ease of talking to anyone or Sam's uncanny understanding of how people worked.

Gadreel's face was open and trusting, his eyes tracking the movement of Castiel's shy glances, before he nodded. "I'd be pleased to join you, Castiel. If the bookstore you were hoping to browse is _EnTitled_ , we can stop on the way back if you'd prefer. They have not closed despite the disagreeable weather."

Cas smiled and nodded, wondering for a moment where Gadreel stayed when the weather beat out its worst, and if it was sufficient at night when things were unbearably cold.

Even with the chill, Castiel's shoulder brushed Gadreel's every now and again as they walked, and he inexplicably felt a bit warmer.

Gadreel refused to let him pay for both of their meals, and Castiel subsided when he realized that there was more than pride or dignity on the line.

\---

In the two and a half weeks that followed, Castiel sought out Gadreel's company as often as possible. Work faded in and out with the weather, the city playing their cards by ear rather than any permanent schedule. A 'polar vortex unlike anything ever seen', the so-called experts were saying, but Castiel knew these patterns were as common without human destruction as with it. It didn't mean such carelessness could be permitted by humanity, but it did mean that the wrong trends were being focused on.

He said as much on a trip to a coffee shop, pleased when Gadreel allowed him to purchase their hot chocolates.

"There is much wrong in the world. Those with authority are not always dedicated to drawing attention to things that might mean some of their power must be re-distributed," Gadreel said, agreeing.

Castiel looked closely at his friend--and he so hoped they could call each other that, even if his own feelings had begun to grow into something new and vaguely terrifying--and found that words failed him.

Gadreel, after a few meetings had passed, told him of the time he'd spent in prison for a crime that was later-- _too late_ \--proven to have been committed by someone else. "I was not blameless," Gadreel had confessed quietly. "If I had just realized what Luce was going to do when I gave him the key..."

Castiel couldn't bear the self-recrimination that was oozing like blood from Gadreel's heart. "You trusted someone who had demonstrated his trustworthiness, my friend. He knew his goal long before you met him, and his deception was all you knew. Had you known him before he came to you, I am certain you would have withheld both your trust and the key to the senator's estate. In any case, they were family, and he had far more authority than you. It was not wrong to assume his intentions were good. You are not to blame, Gadreel."

There was a long moment of silence before his companion looked up at him with fathomless eyes. "He was stabbed in the garden under my care," he whispered, eyes red and full but he refused to let anything fall. "I planted everything there, worked every day to make it somewhere the senator could find a bit of quiet when things were at their loudest. I used to love the flowers...the trees..." His jaw tightened, and his mouth pressed into a grim line. Castiel felt his heart ache at the terrible expression of grief on such a beautiful face. "I tried to take it up again, when I found that few jobs were willing to take on my brand of legal trouble, but I...I wasn't strong enough to--I couldn't after--"

His hand reached across the space between them before he could even begin to dissect the reasons or the consequences and covered Gadreel's in a desperate attempt to provide a measure of comfort. The other man flinched minutely, but after a moment of stillness, he turned his hand up to accept the gesture, tracing his work-roughened fingers along the lines of Cas's palm. Their eyes asked and answered questions, never wavering from their focus on the other. A shiver went through them both before they drew away, mutually breaking the moment of heat that threatened to shift into something less easy to ignore.

They talked of their close friends, past and present, and the families that had long abandoned them both. They shared their favorite things from Castiel's fondness for classic films to Gadreel's odd long time love of Celtic music. They discussed Gadreel's travel patterns, where he stayed and the jobs he took on, and Castiel's fierce battle currently being waged against several large companies that had an eye to the short term gain and a devil-may-care attitude for the long term loss they would cause. Sam was the general in that fight, but Dean and Cas were no mere foot soldiers when it came to a project that big.

"Will I see you again this week?"

The question, so casually posed, nearly undid Castiel's self control. How long had it been since he'd felt wanted in any capacity? Aside from the Winchesters, there were few who would actively choose to be in his presence, no matter how hard he tried to be someone dependable, friendly, willing to treasure those who let him near.

Dean had said that perhaps he seemed desperate to his peers, but Sam said it was more likely that Cas's brand of subtle caring and affection was lost on the general population. Either way, the result remained the same.

"If you can stand my presence for another day, there is a bakery I've yet to try, and I think we might both like the muffins I've been informed are enough to 'drive a man to sin', according to Dean." Castiel's heart swelled when Gadreel gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. He'd heard a fair amount of stories about the Winchesters and their shenanigans, and each seemed to amuse him more than the last.

"To be frank, I think that Dean Winchester must be a man of weak fortitude if his inability to withstand the promise of pie, muffins, alcohol--or any sort of food, now that I think about it--is any indication." Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, but Cas certainly wasn't going to argue, thinking of the time Sam had bought him a donut and he'd looked away for a few seconds before Dean had pilfered it for his own consumption.

"What must it say about us, I wonder, that we apparently share the same weakness over hot chocolate?"

"Nothing good, I'm sure." Gadreel's smile could bring cities to ruin, Castiel had decided weeks ago.

\---

" _Gadreel!_ " His voice was lost on the wind that whipped and bit at his face. He felt brittle and cracked, chafed against the torrent of snow and ice that blazed in cold fire around him.

"Gadreel, please!" He didn't know why he begged, only that if it brought his friend safely to him, he wouldn't feel an ounce of shame for the tears that froze on his cheeks.

He'd been looking for the better part of an hour, and he knew he'd have to return home soon or face potentially deadly consequences. It was that thought that urged him further, faster, somehow knowing without question that when his time ran out, so would Gadreel's. The man was too willing to put others first to seek a shelter for the night if others might need it more. He'd already checked the underpass that his friend had shown him, but it had been as barren and frozen as the rest of the city.

"Come on, come on, come on..." he chanted at no one, eyes stinging and heart pounding, until he turned a corner and found a figure huddled between two buildings. He nearly sobbed in relief when he realized they were only a few blocks from his apartment.

"Gadreel!" He shouted, voice barely making it a few feet with the way the earth and sky howled like an animal. The other man blearily looked towards him and lurched forward suddenly, scrabbling against the ice on hands and knees before he jerked upright and fell into Castiel's arms, shivering hard enough to rattle them both.

"C-Cast-t-" If Death was cold, Gadreel was impossibly colder. Cas drew him close, though it was useless given his own frigid state, and began to pull him along, cursing the elements and Gadreel with the same breath.

"Stubborn, stupid, reckless--" the list went on and on, and his grip grew tighter until they reached the door and practically fell through it in their haste to gain entry.

They hadn't even made it to the top of the stairs before Castiel started tearing at their clothes, crusted with snow and soaked to the point of becoming another danger they faced. Gadreel stood still and allowed it, or he would have if he wasn't wracked through with horrible shudders that had Cas biting his lip with worry.

"Need to get these off. Have to conserve body heat," Cas realized he was muttering, and his friend merely nodded and tried to reach up to lend his aid. Suddenly angry, Castiel pushed his hands away and wrenched them both free of everything but their shorts, placing ice cold hands against Gadreel's even colder shoulders to move him towards the rug in front of the fireplace. He ran to the bedroom and grabbed the comforter and blankets from its hold, suddenly pausing as he came back into the living room.

What was he _doing?_ Forcing Gadreel into his house, into barring himself and cornering him into what the older man would see as a debt when Castiel _knew_ what he'd experienced in prison--

"Castiel." His name broke his sudden panic, and he looked to where Gadreel stood, swaying with cold and exhaustion, hand barely outstretched towards him in a plea for either his presence or the blankets. He assumed the latter, and was surprised when Gadreel sank down onto the thick rug and tugged Castiel with him to lie against his chest. Pillows had been taken from the couches to create a makeshift mattress. Castiel nearly wept with both amazement and frustration as Gadreel's endless strength even in the face of the trauma his body was fighting to withstand. Hypothermia was not out of the question by any stretch of the imagination.

Gadreel pulled him close, tangling and slotting their bodies together in a way that made Castiel shiver from something other than the cold. He wrapped the comforter around them, slid his hands beneath the chilled skin of Gadreel's back, and listened to his heart thump a steady rhythm while his friend whispered needless words of thankfulness and promise until they both caved to their exhaustion without even a token fight.

\---

Castiel woke with a jolt, disoriented by the darkness beyond the window and the heat surrounding him that was nearly stifling. The warm, solid body that had been beneath him was shifting in sleep, he realized with odd clarity in an otherwise half-delirious moment, rolling to press him into the soft pillows and blankets beneath them. Gadreel made a deep sound of contentment before he went quiet once more. His breath tickled at Cas's neck, and he moaned softly at the way Gadreel's body seemed crafted to fit his own. Solid and strong, his weight was comforting and arousing all at once, and it was with the thought of waking like this every morning that Castiel fell back asleep.

\---

Fevered dreams faded in and out of focus, and some distant part of Castiel realized that they were both lost to whatever sickness had taken hold. They tossed and turned beneath their sheets, chilled one moment and burning up the next. Gadreel moaned in pain, and Castiel found just enough energy to get them water and medicine. Cas cried out in fear when the next dream took him, and he vaguely remembered Gadreel's kind hands drawing the demons away with shaky caresses and a makeshift compress to take the edge off his headache. Gadreel retched into the toilet and Cas stroked his sweaty hair and massaged at overly warm temples.

He thought he might have said something stupid when Gadreel pushed him back down to the pillows and managed to find new blankets for them, but he didn't know the difference between 'thank you' and 'love you' at this point, and it didn't count until they were both coherent anyways.

\---

Twenty four hours of a mutual hell left them both quaking and feeling frail, but it was finally over. Castiel closed his eyes and tried to breathe when Gadreel quietly requested the use of his shower, and then gripped the sidebars of the stall until his fingers cramped when it was his turn to keep them from wandering lower. They donned the softest sweaters they could find, gulped down glass after glass of water until their bellies hurt, ate enough toast to soothe the ragged hunger to a bearable level, and dragged themselves into the soft bed that was the perfect temperature now that they were defrosted from the fireplace and the fever.

There was no question of whether they would share or not.

A moment of painful tension reigned briefly before Gadreel sighed and rolled to face Castiel, radiating wariness. He looked for assurance before he slowly reached a hand to brush through the matted line of Cas's still damp hair. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice low and raw.

Castiel nodded.

"You...you came for me." It sounded like a question despite the lack of inflection.

He was getting tired from the way his heart seemed to want to bash its way through his chest to spill out before this beautiful person. He remained silent, unsure of what to say in place of all the things he _wanted_ to say.

Gadreel shifted closer, again asking permission with his eyes until he was close enough that their noses brushed. "I think you are the kind of man who would want to help save the world if it was asked of you, Castiel."

Cas was shaking his head in denial before the sentence could finish, but he froze when fingers brushed across the shadowy stubble along Castiel's cheek.

"Tell me I haven't read this incorrectly," Gadreel murmured. His eyes closed and his mouth was soft and easy against Cas's forehead, his eyelids and nose. "I want--" He opened his eyes again to look intently at his bed partner. "May I kiss you?"

Castiel would have laughed at the question if he hadn't been so short of breath. Up close, Gadreel's grey eyes were like rolling storms with the fervency of thunder and the stunning electricity of lightning. He wanted to be lost in them without an umbrella. Rain would be a welcome change from the snow.

"You may." His voice was so ragged.

Gadreel let out a surprised breath, a heavy exhale of relief. He leaned in slowly, propped on his arms, and touched their foreheads together for a moment, simply letting them exist as they re-learned the world from a new angle. His fingers found Castiel's lips and brushed at them for a moment in wonder before following the caress with his mouth.

If there had been any lingering chill in their bodies, it was dispelled with the meeting of their lips, careful but without any hesitance. The sound of Cas's pleased moan surprised even himself, always having been one to live in relative silence, but he was met with an answering whisper of his name and he let his embarrassment fade in favor of a more enticing emotion.

Their mouths brushed again, and again, easy and with leisure, just a simple way to memorize how their bodies could connect, until Castiel opened his and slid a hand into Gadreel's soft hair to invite him in. Their noses bumped, the angle awkward until one of them shifted just so and Gadreel's tongue wasted no time in joining their dance. Castiel was soon lost in the wet heat of their kisses, the give and take of the shaky breaths shared between them. Each touch felt like an end in and of itself, with every nip at his tongue a signature in a love letter yet to be penned.

Castiel pushed up against the firm line of the older man's body, breaking their kiss with a hissed breath when he felt a hardness that matched his own. A clever mouth slid down along the curve of his jaw the moment it was free, skimming along the sensitive skin there, until he could kiss at the vulnerable spot behind his ear. Gadreel's hand guided him to bare his throat, and the scrape of teeth had Castiel mewling at the sensation and oh, he _wanted_ \--

"You are exquisite, Castiel," he said lowly, the words a rumble along Castiel's neck. He shivered, and tilted his head to the side to let Gadreel worry at the skin there with teeth and tongue, hoping against hope that he might press his fingers against a bruise in the morning. "Had I a kingdom to bestow, it would be yours without question."

Castiel moaned quietly, and turned his head up for a kiss that was already granted. "I have no use for a kingdom. I'd much rather have you, if it's all the same."

Gadreel laughed, deep and pleased, and broke their kiss to press more of the same against the steady pulse of Castiel's heart beating beneath his chest. His hands wrought havoc on Castiel's body, fleeting touches along his arms, chest, sides, hips, all culminating into a burning simmer that the potential to ignite into something insatiable. The sweaters they'd put on were stripped off once more, sacrificed to the floor, and their boxers followed soon after.

Castiel looked at the span of his lover's body, splayed over him, the muscles and sinews that created the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, for all that he had scars both physical and soul deep like everyone else. He bit his lip to keep from whimpering at the sight of Gadreel's cock jutting towards him, precome beading at the tip. His tongue darted out, and he could see the same awe in Gadreel's expression as his eyes traced along Castiel's smaller body.

Matched movement for movement, Castiel wrapped his legs around Gadreel's narrow waist, ran his hands from neck to shoulders to hips to grip the soft swell of the other man's ass, urging him to press against him over and over in a slow undulation of their bodies, a teasing and unhurried rhythm that had them both panting with need and restraint.

"And I am barely touching you..." Gadreel whispered. Castiel's only reply was an incoherent whine and a sudden jerk of his hips against the larger man. His hands were drawn up above his head, held in place by only one of Gadreel's while his chest was peppered with nips and open mouthed kisses.

"Will you lie with me?" Breathless words reached him.

"Yes, _yes_ , Gadreel, _please_ \--ah! Need you to fuck me, need you _in me._ " Castiel would have been shocked at his own words had he enough shame to hear them, but when Gadreel whimpered and pressed harder against him, reaching a hand between them to stroke them in time with their thrusts, he didn't have it in him to care. "Oh god, don't, or I'll--" He wanted to cry in relief and frustration when Gadreel immediately stopped, until he was rolled onto his stomach and his hips were raised. His head hung between his shoulders, forehead pressed to the pillow, and his hands clenched and un-clenched in the sheets near him.

Gentle fingers were spreading him open, exposing him to Gadreel, and his length dripped in anticipation, body trembling and aching for what might come next.

He wasn't disappointed, and he cried out, strained and desperate, when a wet mouth kissed his entrance and teased the pink ring of muscle reverently. Gadreel laved at his hole, tongue hot and wet, and Castiel had to bite the pillow to keep from screaming. "Gadreel!" He gasped, quaking as he had under the heavy hand of the elements. "Fuck, fuck, please, _oh god!_ " It was hell to be pinned as he was, unable to press back against that wicked tongue and rut himself into completion.

"What do you need, Castiel?" There was little mirth, and an overwhelming amount of heat in that question, and Cas moaned, bowing his back further. He didn't know what latent kink had just manifested without his knowing, but it was heady and it was _powerful._ He burned with it.

Gadreel pushed his tongue into Castiel's body before he could answer, and had he not gripped tightly at the base of the younger man's cock, it would have been game over.

"Oh god please, I need _you_ ," he moaned, spreading his legs so that Gadreel's tongue could fuck him deep and filthy, could lick into him and render him helpless to the pleasurable torture branding his body. In and out, in and out, the slick muscle speared him again and again until tears ran down his face with how badly he needed release. "Want you to open me with your fingers and make me writhe on them. Want you to push me down and hold me against you when you take what's yours." Gadreel exhaled shakily and pressed one last messy kiss to his lower back, but he couldn't mourn the loss of his mouth for long when he heard the sound of a drawer and he knew Gadreel had found what they'd need.

"Want it, want you so much it hurts-- _fuck!_ " Slick fingers dipped into him and wasted no time with teasing. One finger was joined by another, gently opening him with a tenderness he'd never experienced before. His vision blurred and he sobbed when those long fingers found his  
prostate. He rocked back against them, panting. He felt owned, and treasured, and god if that wasn't what he'd been craving for longer than he could recall. "Need you to fill me up, fuck me hard until I'm stuffed full of your come. I want it to leak from me, mark me as yours. I'm clean, I promise, I want you to--Gadreel, _please_ , I can't--I can't--"

A large body settled on top of him, pressed inch for inch at the line of his back. Castiel could feel Gadreel's cock nudging at his entrance, and there was a few seconds of nothing but harsh chokes of air and quivering bodies before the older man let out a slow breath and kissed the back of Castiel's neck, hands skimming across his chest to roll peaked nipples between his fingers and tug at them. Cas felt like he could breathe again, even gasping for air as he was. "Gadreel," he murmured, and felt the other's heart beat beat double time against his skin. One more moment of quiet slipped by, understanding and adoration passing between them, and then Gadreel thrust in with one sharp movement.

Castiel cried out, and it was from anything but pain. The burn was vaguely uncomfortable, but Gadreel's hands covering his to press him down so that he could work his way deeper on the next thrust were distracting. Gadreel's hips stuttered only a moment as he let Castiel adjust to being stretched around him, gripping at his self control for all he was worth until his lover moaned and shifted back against him with permission to move.

Castiel felt split open, body and soul, as Gadreel drew out, waited for two, three, four heartbeats, and then plunged back in. He was shaking and sobbing, wrecked with each thrust of ownership into his body. One hand left his to wring further pleasure from his nipples, only drawing away once more only to cradle his throat and draw him up so that Gadreel could press his lips against the back of his neck. He had the unbearable thought that if humans were still the animals that had never built a city, never challenged their own instinct until they had few of them left, Gadreel's teeth would be locked there, laying claim to him in the only way he knew how. He bared his throat in a silent plea, and precome blurted from his cock when his desire was acknowledged, Gadreel's teeth gripping his nape and bruising him hard enough that he hoped it might still be there when he next went in to work.

With his new found sense of submission satisfied--and he wondered if Gadreel might share the same affinity in return the next time--he sank down to let Gadreel use him, to fuck into him again and again, sometimes filling him deeply, other times with shallow thrusts designed to abuse his prostate and wring screams from his chest.

Gadreel suddenly drew out, his breath sounding torn from his lungs, and Castiel found himself flipped onto his back, legs pulled up to wrap around his lover's waist once more, before Gadreel brushed their foreheads together and thrust back in while Cas could only mewl in delight at the new development.

"Castiel, look at me." His voice was an earthquake in Castiel's world, and he obeyed, looking unashamed at the naked _wantneedtrustlove_ in Gadreel's eyes. He brought a hand between them, and it took only one, two strokes before Castiel was thrown bodily over the edge and spilled against their stomachs, moaning Gadreel's name. He felt his mouth being taken in an electric kiss that had him wishing for the ability to roll his lover over and ride him straight into round two. Gadreel's hips thrust erratically a few more times, and Castiel whined in over-sensitized bliss until the other spent himself in Castiel's pliant body, words of love fed to his mouth in worshipful offering.

Gadreel collapsed against Castiel's warm skin, slick with sweat and come to catch his breath, placing soft, unhurried kisses against his cheek and jaw. When he finally slipped free of Castiel's body, they both groaned at the loss. The aftershocks jolted through them every so often, and Castiel sighed, sliding his palms along the veins of the other's strong arms until he could tangle their fingers together. As they calmed and let the hazy cocoon of satisfaction wash over them, Gadreel pulled Cas on top of him and drew the covers over their heads. A hand stroked Castiel's hair while he kissed Gadreel's chest and ran his fingers along the older man's sides, counting ribs and heartbeats alike with sleepy contentment.

"You'll stay?" His voice was wrecked, and he felt Gadreel shudder against him, pleased with the knowledge that Cas sounded like that because of him.

A kiss landed in his hair, and a hand came between them to cover the skin over his heart. "It's warm here," Gadreel replied simply, eyes molten with unmistakable emotion. Castiel smiled and the pair drifted off to the song of the storm.

\---

The wind howled outside the window. Nature and her city clashed and made up as they always did, while hidden from the world save for the ever watching eyes of the moon, two wanderers stopped to rest, and found a home in each other's hearts.

The city cradled her children and looked to the stars.

The lights of her towers danced with the lights of her lover's sky.


End file.
